Square Pegs
Square Pegs
Marsupials. Marsupials. Who the fuck cared about marsupials?
To be clear, I’m sure they’re an important part of the environment, the ecosystem, the food chain- whatever. I’m also sure there’s one of them sitting in Marsupial College staring at a slide show of people going, “Who the fuck cares about humans?”
God, I’m hilarious.
So hilarious, in fact, I almost laughed aloud at this thought.
Luckily, it was a soft snort and a shoulder shake. I checked to see if anyone had noticed, as there wasn’t a whole lot else to attract their attention in the back row, the proverbial lawn seating in this lecture hall.
None of them saw anything. None of them stopped typing for a second to see me, one of maybe four non-Asians within my eyesight, laugh quietly to myself like a schizophrenic. It was cute. What diligence.
The professor put up a picture of a platypus. This was a pretty effective way to draw me back in.
Have you ever noticed how fucked up those creatures look? I mean the gene pool really gave a huge middle finger to these guys. Not only do they belong to the marsupials, an order that already doesn’t seem to fit into the world in general, but to make matters worse, they look like something that crawled out of a polluted lake.
They just don’t belong. There is a whole world out there for them to fit into, and they are just the square peg in a very rounded world.
My attention was very short-lived. I took it upon myself to find someone who was at least, in some way, even slightly distracted. Nothing. Only fingers on keyboards, only the squinty, intent stares of undergrads.
Movement caught my eye, though.
A blonde girl (decidedly one of the four white ones) had her hands up in what was a tragically obvious wig. She pulled and tucked and was having a silent panic attack, waiting for the whole thing to just slide right off. I felt bad for her, but not for the reason I think others would- you know, the baldness. Here she was, not only bald, but placed in between a sea of black, smooth, Asian hair. Hair that not only mockingly existed, but was the gold standard, the near perfection, of hair.
She, like the platypus, existed in a world that made them look like they didn’t belong.
To be clear, I’m sure they’re an important part of the environment, the ecosystem, the food chain- whatever. I’m also sure there’s one of them sitting in Marsupial College staring at a slide show of people going, “Who the fuck cares about humans?”
God, I’m hilarious.
So hilarious, in fact, I almost laughed aloud at this thought.
Luckily, it was a soft snort and a shoulder shake. I checked to see if anyone had noticed, as there wasn’t a whole lot else to attract their attention in the back row, the proverbial lawn seating in this lecture hall.
None of them saw anything. None of them stopped typing for a second to see me, one of maybe four non-Asians within my eyesight, laugh quietly to myself like a schizophrenic. It was cute. What diligence.
The professor put up a picture of a platypus. This was a pretty effective way to draw me back in.
Have you ever noticed how fucked up those creatures look? I mean the gene pool really gave a huge middle finger to these guys. Not only do they belong to the marsupials, an order that already doesn’t seem to fit into the world in general, but to make matters worse, they look like something that crawled out of a polluted lake.
They just don’t belong. There is a whole world out there for them to fit into, and they are just the square peg in a very rounded world.
My attention was very short-lived. I took it upon myself to find someone who was at least, in some way, even slightly distracted. Nothing. Only fingers on keyboards, only the squinty, intent stares of undergrads.
Movement caught my eye, though.
A blonde girl (decidedly one of the four white ones) had her hands up in what was a tragically obvious wig. She pulled and tucked and was having a silent panic attack, waiting for the whole thing to just slide right off. I felt bad for her, but not for the reason I think others would- you know, the baldness. Here she was, not only bald, but placed in between a sea of black, smooth, Asian hair. Hair that not only mockingly existed, but was the gold standard, the near perfection, of hair.
She, like the platypus, existed in a world that made them look like they didn’t belong.